The wolves had gathered again—this time not for a moon rite, but for something far more dangerous: pride.
Kael stood at the center of the ancient stone ring, the place where he had once touched Seren's collarbone and shattered everything. The scar from that night still burned beneath his skin, though no one could see it.
Around him, the pack murmured.
Some in awe.
Most in doubt.
He'd summoned them here for one reason: to undo what could no longer be undone alone.
But she was late.
Or maybe, he thought bitterly, she wasn't coming at all.
Good, his wolf snarled inside. We don't beg.
But his body said otherwise.
He was trembling.
The curse moved faster now. With each full moon, his grip on reality slipped—memories tangled, thoughts unraveled. He couldn't tell if it was his instincts talking… or madness.
Then—a hush.
She was here.
Seren stepped into the circle like a storm cloaked in human skin. Her cloak was gone, replaced by a sleeveless dark tunic and leather bracers. Her silver-streaked hair was tied back. At her hip hung a blade etched in runes—Moonblood steel.
The crowd parted for her, but no one bowed.
No one dared speak.
She didn't look at Kael.
She looked at the stones beneath her boots.
The same ground where she'd once collapsed after he rejected her.
"You called a council meeting without the full Council present," she said.
Kael's throat was dry. "I didn't call a council. I called you."
The words tasted like ash. Even saying them made something inside him fracture further.
"You've never called me before," she said without looking at him. "Not when I bled. Not when I begged the gods for clarity. Not even when my mother was executed for defying your father."
Kael's fists clenched. "You want justice? Fine. Curse me. Slay me. But don't let the pack fall because I was too weak to carry the bond."
Now she looked up—and when their eyes met, the world narrowed.
Silver flame met golden ice.
"I don't want justice," she said. "I want acknowledgement."
Kael stepped closer. "Then take it. I acknowledge what I did. I acknowledge what I destroyed."
He dropped to one knee.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The wolves shifted uneasily. Alphas did not kneel. Not even for Luna spirits. Not even for gods.
And yet here he was, hands braced against stone, eyes locked on hers.
"You said I should beg," Kael said, voice hoarse. "So here I am."
Seren didn't move.
Didn't soften.
"Say it," she commanded.
Kael's eyes flickered. "What?"
"Say what you did. All of it. Every piece. Out loud. In front of them."
He swallowed.
"I marked you," he said quietly. "Then rejected you."
"Louder."
"I MARKED YOU," Kael growled, voice cracking. "AND THEN I REJECTED YOU—IN FRONT OF THE GODS AND OUR PACK. I DESTROYED THE BOND."
His words echoed through the ridge like thunder.
"And?" she said coldly.
Kael's jaw tensed. "And I broke what was never mine to hold."
He rose to his feet slowly, like a man carrying chains.
"I don't ask for forgiveness. I ask for time."
Seren tilted her head.
"I don't owe you time," she said. "But I will give you something else."
She stepped forward, unsheathed the blade at her hip, and drew a small cut across her own palm.
Silver blood—Moonblood—glistened.
The pack gasped.
She held her hand toward him.
"This is not a gift," she said. "It's a test. One drop of my blood, taken willingly, can steady the curse for seven days."
Kael hesitated.
"But if you take it," she said, "you bind yourself to try again. To unlearn what made you think you had the right to reject a soul chosen by the Moon."
Kael nodded once. "I'll try."
Seren narrowed her eyes. "Then kneel again. Not as Alpha. As a man."
And he did.
He took her hand in his.
Her blood burned into his mouth like wildfire and moonlight.
For a moment, the madness paused.
Just a moment.
But in that sliver of stillness, he saw her fully for the first time.
Not as a mate. Not as a healer.
But as a force of reckoning.
⸻
Later that night, as the pack dispersed, Elder Rowan appeared beside Seren at the edge of the forest.
"You broke him a little today," he said.
Seren didn't flinch.
"Good," she whispered. "Now we can rebuild."